


The Long Haul

by sheriffdeputy



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: ;)!, Alcohol, F/M, First Meeting, Head Injury, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, Other, Tags and rating to be updated, small nsfw mention, unsanitary mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2020-12-24 19:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21104633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheriffdeputy/pseuds/sheriffdeputy
Summary: A series of moments from before, during, and after your strange relationship with Zane Flynt.





	1. Bus Ride Introductions

Bus rides were rarely enjoyable as is, but a bus ride on a barren planet with constant bumps and the occasional bandit torn up under your tires put this ride up there as one of the worst you'd ever been on. You looked over the crumpled and bloodied flyer in your hand and sighed. Come to Pandora! Join the crimson raiders! Be a vault hunter! The description was a lot more glamorous than your current reality.

Pandora isn't the prettiest planet in the universe. It was probably one of the ugliest in all honesty. Most of the land was flat desert or piles of dirt passed off as mountains. When was the last time you even saw a tree in this place? Was there ever any in the first place?

A sudden shift in your seat drags your attention away from the scenery and to the new figure next to you. One of the other vault hunters you'd met during your first big fight who's seemingly decided to invite himself into your row.

"Taking in the view, huh? Don't know what you're looking for, place has only got skags and psychos running around," He says.

Now _that_ was an accent. The strange pitch seemed to match his overall energy. You give him a quick and annoyed once over. He's geared up a lot nicer than the rest of you on the bus; with clean, metal boots and a belt full of tech. The leather jacket he has on is crisp, albeit a bit nauseating with the scent the sun shining down on it lets off. The eye-patch he's sporting is especially interesting. You're not entirely sure if it's an augmentation or just for looks, but when your gaze makes it way back to his face he waggles his eyebrows at you. You grimace.

"This seat's not taken, right?"

You make a show of twisting your head to look around the entire bus before meeting his eyes again. Every other seat was empty besides the ones the other three had taken up towards the back.

The operative ignores the action completely and continues anyways.

"Name's Zane Flynt," He introduces himself with a blink. Or maybe it was a wink. You're not entirely sure.

"Uh. Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine! Border planets aren't exactly the finest planets around here, Pandora's probably the biggest shitehole outta al of 'em too. Don't come around here often, some contracts take me out here, but only when whatever poor sod I'm hunting is desperate. I've done jobs for every damn corporation under the sun; Hyperion, Pangolin, Maliwan, Vladof- you name it. I'm laying low out here until all them damn bounties I've got blow over. Once you've got enough hits under your belt, companies stop hirin' ya and start trying to kill ya instead. Guess vault hunting is sorta my retirement!" He says nonchalantly.

Jumping right in with the life story it seems. You said a total of two words to him before you'd gotten on the bus, and he didn't seem to bother any of the other hunters besides you, maybe not yet at least.

"Okay? Why are you telling me all this?"

"Talking about meself is a hobby of mine. I like getting to know me new mates, especially the good looking ones."

"Huh?" You make a choked sound at his last comment that makes him grin.

He skips over that entirely too though, "You're not from around here, are ya? Got a story?"

"Just trying to hunt a vault." You turn away from him to avoid his gaze.

"Hm. Sounds like a load of shite to me. Not running from anything? Looking for something, maybe?"

This guy really doesn't plan on letting up, huh? Alright then. You turn towards him and his face lights up so quickly it almost makes you smile too.

"Is bothering people just a hobby of yours?"

He chuckles. "I've gotten paid for that before."

If he really doesn't plan on going away, you'll indulge him at least to quench your own curiosity. "You've had a lot of jobs, yeah? There ever been a worst?"

Zane hums in thought for a moment and scratches his beard before suddenly snapping his fingers when the perfect story strikes him.

"Worst damn thing that's ever happened to me was a plumbing job a couple years back."

_"Plumbing job?"_

"Of a sort," he says "Had a target I'd tracked down to an old bar. Poor bastard didn't expect an assassin to be waiting for him at the jacks. Barely gave the guy a fighting chance before I dunked his head right in a bowl."

You put a hand over your mouth to hold back an irked chuckle. "Oh my god, that's fucking disgusting."

"Not even the worst part. The lad must've had a bigger skull than I thought; fecking toilet overflowed all over me new boots. Entire floor was flooded with shitter water and blood. Can't say I envied the janitor that night."

You can't stop yourself from laughing this time. Your hand slams down on his shoulder as if to steady yourself after the blow that story landed on you.

Zane grins wildly when you laugh, almost in surprise. That's a sound he could get used to.

"Then there was that time I-" You shake him by his shoulder.

"Shut up! Shut up!" You snort in an attempt to keep your laughter down and Zane laughs with you.

Both of you are interrupted by the bus' screeching breaks as Marcus pulls into the stop.

He slides out of his seat as the bus comes to a halt. Half way up the aisle he stops suddenly to turn back to you as you get up too.

"Don't think I got your name, actually."

You smile at him and give him a much briefer introduction compared to his. Patting his shoulder lightly, you push him aside to step out the door.

Zane quickly decides that as much as he likes hearing your laugh, he likes watching you walk away a whole lot more. Almost tripping over himself, he follows you off the bus and into the Pandoran heat.


	2. Recollection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zane has a wondering thought and a sudden realization at a local vending machine with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legitimately no one asked for dramatic vignette-like thoughts from Zane but luckily I'm here to provide an attempt at artsy-fartsy bullshit anyways! I apologize for how short everything I write is. Also uploading this from mobile so sorry x2.

As much of a lonewolf as he was, socializing came easy to Zane. He treated everyone like an old friend regardless of how long they'd actually known each other. Getting to know the other vault hunters was simple once he learned how each of them liked to control the battlefield. Amara fought with a sense of righteousness. Moze preferred defense over offense. Fl4k treated every encounter as a calculative learning experience. You, however, were much more dynamic in your movements. The others strived to perfect a certain skill or tactic, but you aimed more to fill the niches in between.

It seemed as if you preferred to remain _theoretical._ Your actions could be set in stone, but you liked to play your cards close to your chest regarding your motives. It was a strategy he was more than familiar with. The biggest difference between the two of you was your preference for deflecting vulnerability completely and his preference for diverting it to others. He knew how to play the game, and he knew how to play it well. There wasn't much doubt you could play it too, but he couldn't decipher why exactly you chose not to (or why you'd choose to play in the first place anyways). Maybe not yet.

When he asks about you past, you're quick to change subjects. There's always a loose wire, a garbled map, a new mission- the most convenient inconveniences whenever and wherever you needed them. You left yourself a back door everywhere you went. But so did he. The most exciting part of that shared reflex was when you'd both decide on the same escape plan on accident.

He doesn't stop asking though, not entirely. It starts as an urge to crack you open somehow. Zane had grown up taking things apart and putting them back together again; it was in his nature to find out exactly what made gadjets and people tick. You were a challenge.

At least you were at first. Each time he'd manage to pick apart a new piece of you, you'd steal something away from him too. He acknowledges the danger in that subconsciously, but the operative figured if you wanted him dead you'd already had more than enough chances to put a bullet in him with all this cult business ruling your lives.

It's not until you're both standing at a vending machine on Promethea that things begin to shift. 

You tap your boot against the bottom of the glass as his hand hovers over the keypad.

"That one," you say.

Zane takes a step back to look down at the snacks in the bottom row. You're pointing at a pack of grape flavored taffy.

"You ate those a lot as a kid, right?" 

He blinks. Had he really told you that? More importantly, did you really _remember_ that? Something as small, insignificant, and personal as a childhood favorite candy stuck with you? Honestly speaking, he'd almost forgotten the fact himself. But then he realizes that he remembers exactly what your favorite candy was too. You remembering was one thing- why would _he_ bother to memorize something so small?

The operative nods at you.

You stick your tongue out at him and wrinkle your nose in feigned disgust. "Weirdo."

Zane grins at you wildly. Partially excited, slightly defensive, and greatly confused. He punches in the number for grape taffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure these are gonna be in chronological order honestly. I know it'd make most sense like that, but I have a lot of stuff I'm holding off on just because I don't know what to do with build up. Deciphering when events take place could be fun, right? Or maybe I should just be patient :/


	3. Cooped Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zane joins you at the top of the radio tower while the other vault hunters are out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are still all very short so sorry. In case you haven't noticed I really like writing dialogue so that might be the majority of these. Also I probably am gonna jump around with events so sorry about that too. Xoxo fuck Zane Flynt

The Droughts are shaping up for the better with your team of vault hunters stirring up morale in the Crimson Raiders. Lilith's plans had been slightly derailed without the vault map, but the downtime let everyone get accustomed to the planet as well as each other. New guns and cash were just an added benefit. Responsibilities at base were usually cycled between the five of you by Lilith, but not every task is equal- at least not in the eyes of Zane Flynt.

While the other three are off clearing out bandit camps and finding new loot, you and Zane are tasked with holding down the fort back at the former propaganda center. The operative practically raised hell at the decision to hold the two of you back. He complained about having to stay at base for half an hour to Vaughn before joining you up on the radio tower you were keeping watch from to complain to you too.

"I've been gunning me whole damn life and here I am cooped up like a fecking dog in a kennel. It ain't right!"

Zane plays with the circuitry in one of his drones as he whines, pulling his hand away and sucking on his pointer finger when he accidentally shocks himself.

You click your tongue at him. "Quit whining, we'll probably head out tomorrow. Can you watch the West?"

He pushes the drone away with an exaggerated sigh, pulling out his binoculars to watch the dirt roads.

"Yep, still ugly as shite down there." He gasps suddenly. "We should play a game! Every 10 feet away from a bandit bastard is one point; headshots only!"

"I'm not competing with you."

"Scared ya might lose, huh?"

"Zane."

"Fine, fine! No games, ya wet blanket."

He frowns at you and pulls out his binoculars to scope out any local bandits. There's a series of explosions he can see in the distance that make him even more restless in the radio tower. Instead of lingering on the action, he drops his goggles down to look at you instead.

For all the time you'd spent together now, he'd still barely scratched the surface of your past. The chase was part of the fun for him, and you were full of surprises that kept him on his feet. You had a sense of humor similar to his, even if there were times you'd try not to laugh at his jokes. Making you laugh was that much more fun as a result though. He can't help but smile every time he gives you a once over, and he always gets particularly stuck on your lips and hands. Those were thoughts for another time though. The silence was starting to make him stir-crazy.

"Ya never told me where yer from, y'know? Oh! Lemme guess!" Zane squints at you and frames his hands together at you like a camera.

"Hm...Eden-6? No! Hold on. Promethea? Must be from a city what with that pretty face."

He doesn't miss the way you turn your cheek away from him at that comment.

"Lookers are the ones who survive on those kinda shitehole planets though, hm? At least they're the ones that make it outta orbit." He puts a delicate hand under his chin to point at himself. "Case in point."

"Where are you from then?" You ask back.

"We're sitting on my hunk o' junk homeworld right now, lovely! Place don't look much different from my last walk around the neighborhood. I'm forgetting me roots though- I don't even recognize that there rock," he says, pointing at a pebble in the distance sadly.

"Wait, you're from _Pandora?"_ You look away from your scope in disbelief and Zane grins at your reaction.

"Born and raised!"

You hum. "That explains a lot."

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"Don't worry about it," you say.

There's a beat of silence as you both scan the desert. He hums a strangely familiar tune as he looks over the West roads and you chew on your lip as you watch the East ones. The sun is only starting to set, and you can see the sky bleed from yellow to red. It's a moment of peace you'd been missing out on for weeks now. It's strange sharing the lull in stress with someone, especially with said someone being Zane.

_Different,_ you think. _Better_ crosses your mind briefly, but you shake the thought away entirely at that.

"...You're handsome for a Pandoran," you say quietly.

Zane drops his binoculars and whips his head around to look at you.

"Handsome? Ya think? Aw, you've got me blushin' like a school girl now!"

You don't bother to look up from your rifle, but he can see you trying to hold back a smile while you stare down the sights.

"Don't let it go to your head. I said _'for a Pandoran,'"_ you say, wrinkling your brow as a bandit runner tries to pull up to the old propaganda center.

Your rifle jerks back as you take a shot at the driver. 

"Three points for me."

Zane looks through his binoculars to see the shot, giving you an impressed whistle. "Not competing, aye?" 

"I changed my mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, listen. I upload all these from my phone so I'm sorry if there's weird formatting? I'm not sure what it'll look like on desktop. Secondly, I barely proofread these, so sorry if you find any mistakes. Thanks!


	4. Quiet Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment in which you find yourself thinking about the past, present, and future with Zane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is later in your relationship with Zane, I wanted to keep things at least partially in chronological order, but I felt bad for not having uploaded anything in a while and decided: fuck it. Very slight nsfw mention very very tiny. No dialogue this time, lads. From your pov.

Most of your nights were spent in Zane's room now; whenever you could make it back to Sanctuary III at least. It wasn't exactly homey with it being completely barren besides some gadjets laying around, but the two of you usually just fucked, passed out, and then headed out the next day for whatever missions anyone had to throw at you. Today was a bit different, though. You came back to Sanctuary too tired and sore to even attempt the trek to your bunk at the back of the ship and decided to pass out in Zane's room right by the fast travel station instead while he was still out on his own missions.

A few hours into your nap, a sudden dip in the mattress wakes you up, and you can feel Zane slip in under the covers with you quietly. He didn't bother to question why you were in his room at all, probably because he was as exhausted as you were once he finally made it back to the ship. You open your eyes and find his bare back facing you. You'd found out quickly that Zane had a habit of sleeping naked even when you weren't both stripped down. Confusing considering how cold he usually ran, but it's not like it was anything you'd never seen before at this point.

His scars always caught your attention, however. They ranged from gun shots, stab wounds, and skag bites- with some you couldn't get any good idea on.

You trace the multitude of scars across his back with your eyes and wonder.

What have you been through?

The question feels invasive, and you'd be too embarrassed to bring it up with him directly, but you couldn't help your curiosity.

What _will_ you be through? What will _we_ be through?

That thought makes you pause for a moment. The fight against the children of the vault was still far from over, and with the scars both of you had already accumulated during the war, a few more wounds seemed inevitable. When trouble came-a-knocking and knocked you right off your feet, Zane was always the first to run to your rescue, with the only exception being missions you weren't assigned together on. It worked the other way around too. When Zane got careless, you were the one to bail him out, and he teased you for watching his back so closely almost every time you dragged his ass out of harm's way. Danger would last forever in your line of work, but the war wouldn't. 

Where will you go?

He didn't plan to stay on Pandora forever, he'd told you himself that settling down in one spot would never be for him. The only reason he'd shown up on the deadly hunk of rock in the first place was to lay low until the bounties on him blew over. You'd never put much stock in settling down either, although for a much more cynical reason. It was more likely you'd take a bullet to the head before you had the chance to sign the lease on a cozy little cottage in the country. The idea of this journey coming to an end left something strange and heavy sitting at the bottom of your stomach as you watched Zane's even breathing.

You close your eyes and roll over onto your other side to push the feeling away. Out of sight, out of mind; at least you hoped. As you drift off, one final question crosses your mind.

Will I be there with you?

When you roll over, Zane cranes his neck to see you turned away. He settles his head back down against the cool pillow with a deep breath; and wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize when people think of Zane they think of a crazy drunk bastard and would expect some more wild and wacky encounters in this series, but I've been in a dramatic mood and this is what I have to show for myself. Forgive me.


	5. Concussed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small joke backfires on Zane in the form of head trauma and pain killers, but it's not all bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there anything more intimate and sexy than babysitting someone with a concussion? Probably. I made this anyways though. Sorry if you catch some errors, I barely proof read my shit. The other VH's are mentioned, but I feel like it's not enough to warrant tagging them yet.

It seemed like Zane had a special fondness of messing with you during skirmishes. Eden-6 was dangerous terrain with the CoV swarming the swamps, but that didn't deter him from bumping shoulders with you so you'd fluke a shot; or from calling his hologram to walk right through you just to watch the phase make you shiver. When the teasing got you in trouble, he'd usually make it up to you and pull you back out of it, but he had a tendency of putting himself in even worse positions. Like right now.

While Fl4k, Moze, and Amara fought in the thick of enemies, you and Zane coralled the bandits in by picking off the edges of the group. As you line up a shot, you feel your hair stand up on end with static. Digizane phases right through you, causing you to shake from the strange sensation and Zane to laugh at your reaction. He's distracted by the annoyed and disoriented look you shoot him long enough that he doesn't see the badass bandit stepping out of a comically small hut behind him. If his life wasn't legitimately at stake, you would've taken a moment to laugh at what happened next.

The badass slams into Zane with his shield before the operative even has a chance to switch places with his clone, and you watch Zane's head bounce off a shipping container with a sickening crack that makes you wince.

Fl4k is quick to sick Mr.Chew on the enemy, tackling the badass to the ground and tearing at his jugular with a growl. You give Fl4k an appreciative nod and run over to the operative rolling in the dirt with a groan followed by a giddy laugh. Kneeling next to him, you turn him over towards you and hold him still by his chin, tilting his head around as you assess him.

There's blood, but it's manageable. The fact that his skull isn't split open is enough of a victory to you, but his skull was probably too thick to crack in the first place. Zane grabs your wrist as you try to check where the blood is coming from and you swat his hand away.

"Ya can't be getting handsy with me and then get mad when I get handsy back," he says with a sleezy smile.

"I'm not getting handsy, idiot, I'm trying to see if you're leaking brain fluid- more brain fluid than usual, at least."

"Sure ya are. I knew ya couldn't resist me charm forever." He purses his lips at you and smiles when you groan at him.

You stretch open one of his eyelids and click your tongue at the dialated and unfocused pupil.

"Yep, you're concussed as hell."

"Exciting!" He laughs a little too loud. Probably a result of ringing ears.

"W- how is that-" A stray bullet interrupts your train of thought as it hits the dirt by your feet.

There's no way in hell you'll be able to carry him back to the Fast Travel as he is- just deadweight with a habit of cursing and cackling. Amara, however, could probably lift the Irish man like a bag of grapes.

Hooking your arms under his shoulders, you groan as you attempt to drag him towards better cover while the other three clear out the crowd of enemies. Amara would definitely be able to handle this easier.

"Lift with your legs!" He calls over his shoulder, bobbing his head back and forth.

You grunt. "Shut the hell up. Why are you so damn heavy?"

"Pure muscle, gorgeous. I'm built like a brick shithouse under all these layers."

You snort and almost lose your grip on him. "I'm gonna drop you, stop."

"I could show ya some time if you'd like."

"Be quiet!" You drop him unceremoniously behind the container and wince when his head hits the floor again. "Shit, sorry!"

Zane just groans. Kneeling behind him, you pull his head into your lap and frown when you realize your jeans are probably going to get soaked with blood, but that doesn't stop you from cradling his cheek and patting his hair. It's uncharacteristically tender of you. Zane's almost convinced he's hallucinating for a moment as you stroke his hair, matted with blood.

"Hold on, alright?" You speak softly to keep from irritating his head injury further, but the gun fire ahead has already done enough damage.

His brain feels three times too big for his own head, but you sooth him in a way that makes the man shut up for longer than he has in years. You look more worried than you had earlier, but even with blood, dirt, and sweat covering your face, you look gorgeous to him.

The gunfire starts to die out, and you do a quick scan of the carnage, sighing in relief before calling for Amara from the storage container you're hidden behind. She turns to you just as you stand and begin pulling Zane from behind the cover by his jacket.

"Amara! I could use your help here." You grab Zane's hand and push it back down when he waves it around in the air in an attempt to wave at Amara.

Amara hums. "I've got him."

As expected, Amara lifts him over her shoulder in a fireman carry effortlessly, and you walk along her right side where Zane's boots periodically kick in your direction.

You narrowly dodge a face full of leather when he kicks out again. "Stop moving your feet!"

Zane grunts. "'Mara, turn me over to the other side!" He pats Amara on the back as if to motivate her and points over his shoulder at you with his thumb.

"I'm not walking backwards," Amara says flatly, although she has a small and amused smile.

"We're almost there anyways!" He says.

"Exactly, you can wait." 

Zane whines and drops his shoulders. "I miss 'em." Of course, by that he meant you.

Moze and Amara share a small laugh and you turn your head away with a blush. You almost wish the concussion had knocked him out cold.

The Fast Travel stations are dizzying to use even without a concussion, so it's no wonder why the operative almost trips over his own two feet when Amara sets him down. From there she helps you guide Zane over to Tannis' infirmary, where the scientist cleans up the gash on the back of Zane's head and sends him off with some heavy painkillers. The two of you drag him back to the front of his room and Amara shifts his weight off her shoulder and onto yours.

"Are you gonna be alright with...um..." Amara gestures at the operative clinging to you and muttering to himself.

"I'll live. Thanks for the help, Amara."

She smiles at you and heads down the hall to her own room. Then, you're stuck alone with Zane hanging from your shoulder.

"C'mon," you groan as you try to guide him into his room, "just one foot in front of the other."

Whatever he's trying to say is completely illegible to you, but he's sliding his feet towards the door, which is all that matters. All he could do at this point was relax until the swelling went down. That meant that all you could do at this point was watch over him until he was coherent again. Or just less incoherent. He'd probably already bumped his head so many times in life you'd imagine he's come back a bit of a different person each time. Maybe at one point he wasn't so clingy.

You dump him onto his bed when the two of you manage to cross the room, but Zane keeps a steady hold of your arm.

"I'm gonna go get some water for you." You try to shake your arm loose, but Zane just groans and holds on tighter.

"Feck water, sit down, angel."

"Angel?" You echo back. 

"Did I stutter?"

You give a heavy sigh. The harsh overhead lights make him close his eye, but he pops it back open when he feels you slip into the bed with him.

Trying to look more nonchalant than you felt, you cross your legs and tuck your hands behind your head. Even with his head pounding, Zane isn't buying it. He pulls at your elbow to get you to offer your hand to him and holds it close to his face before pressing a light kiss to the back of your palm.

You swipe it back instinctively and Zane snorts at the sudden movement. Still too out of it to care, and too carefree in general to let it bother him, he rolls over and closes his eye again.

Your hand touches his back delicately. "Careful falling asleep."

Zane smiles tiredly and grunts at you before he begins dozing off. You're quick to shake him awake every time he becomes a little too still for your liking.

Regardless, the hand you press against his back is gentle, and you rub small circles over his shoulder blades occasionally that make him turn to jelly. His memory is fuzzy the next morning, but you're still there when he wakes up, cramped in his small bunk with him. Your palm is still resting on him as you sleep, and your head is tucked against his back.

His head is pounding, and it's still difficult for him to fully focus his eyes, but he ignores the slight vertigo to roll over and face you. He wraps an arm around your waist and tucks his chin on top of your head before falling back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp it's been a little while! Finals are coming up and I've been caught up in other games, but I managed to finish something that's longer than 500 words!


	6. Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few drinks alone and a few more with Zane, you decide to call a bluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same as always. Sorry it's short, and sorry if you find typos! Enjoy!

Moxxxi's is uncharacteristically empty the night you decide to stop by and destress with a drink. Besides a few civilians tucked away in booths and some on the dance floor, the stools lining the bar are empty, and you take advantage of the free space. Moxxi offers some light conversation and you slowly begin to slip into a nice buzz. With a warm fuzz filling your head, your thoughts begin to shift towards each vaulthunter you'd met until you find yourself particularly focused on Zane.

The operative had been on your mind more than you cared to admit. You worked well together on the battlefield, but your mind wandered beyond that. He had a special way of getting on your nerves, but he made you laugh, and the way he grinned when you laughed made you feel special in a way. When his hands would linger over you while checking for injuries, your fingers would twitch with the urge to rest your hands over his. He was obnoxious, and a flirt, but there were times alone together when he'd drop his charm in exchange for an uncharacteristic amount of care.

You melted slightly in your stool, but perked up immediately when the operative himself snuck up next to you with a loud greeting and a pat on the back. So much for some alone time.

He scans over the counter and hums joyously at the bottle and glass sitting in front of you, twisting the cap off the bottle to pour himself a drink into your shot glass.

"That was my glass," You say.

"Don't see yer name on it. Let me check the bottom maybe." Zane throws the shot back and slides into the stool next to you.

"See anything?" You ask with a heavy sigh.

You're already a few shots in. Maybe a little more than a few. Eight shots, actually. You're a few, eight shots in.

"Must've missed it, I'll give it another look." Zane pours himself another shot like he's ready to catch up with you.

"There a reason you're drinkin' alone?" He drums his fingers against the bar.

"Moze is out, Fl4k doesn't have a mouth, and Amara doesn't drink. But sure, you can go ahead and invite yourself."

He pouts at you. "You mean I'm yer last choice? That stings, sweetheart."

You don't answer him, pulling the bottle of whiskey towards you and smiling meanly at him.

"So why're you bothering me today?"

You almost regret asking the question afterwards. Zane wastes no time pouring out his entire day for you, as well as pouring out a good three-fourths of the bottle, sliding you the glass occasionally so you can have your fix.

The operative was never short on stories, and there were times you doubted just how authentic they were. The first time you'd called him out, he had Moze and Amara enraptured in some cleverly spun tale about a hit gone wrong.

_"-And that's exactly how I lost me eye!"_ He'd said, tapping his cybernetic.

_"Liar,"_ You'd said back; short and matter-of-fact.

He just grinned, and from there it became a game of sorts. Seeing what exactly he could get past you. You're not entirely sure either of you kept score.

"-And here I am! Enjoying some quality time with me favorite mercenary."

You blink out of your thoughts as he finishes. You hadn't been listening at all honesty, but it doesn't seem to matter to Zane, who's more content to spend any kind of time with you. He moves his hand to rest his fingers over yours and you jump at the motion.

"Woah! Y'alright? Y'know I don't bite, not on the first date at least."

"I wasn't expecting it." You glare at him for a second, but the annoyance is short lived as you look down at your hands.

Something about the situation makes you feel like an embarrassed teenager, but you quietly move your hand to better intertwine your fingers with his. Zane smiles, and you can feel his own fingers twitch.

"Can't say I get ya on that. It's a bit hard catching me offguard at this point, gorgeous." 

You smirk and pour another drink. "Liar."

"Ya think so?" He asks with a raised brow and a smile.

"I know so."

"I think you're just past your limit. Lightweight." He snorts at you and you narrow your eyes at him until an idea strikes you suddenly.

"Yeah, I'm sick of you at this point." You stick your tongue out at him, but you also give his hand a light squeeze in contrast. It makes him smile as he takes another shot.

The stool screeches against the floor as you push away from the bar. Zane turns towards you to send you off with a raised glass, but you surprise him suddenly and slide right into his lap before he can get a single word out. You're partially straddling him with one leg resting on his thigh, and you hold him close by the collar of his leather jacket. The stool is pulled forward on its front legs.

Zane rubs your thigh and lets out a dumb giggle that almost makes your roll your eyes, but instead, you lean into him; slow and deliberate, until your mouth is ghosting over his and you can practically taste the warm whiskey on his breath.

"You've got the tab, right?" You purr.

He's already pushing past a buzz, and here you are making his head even foggier. He's barely able to open his mouth in response before you're pushing away from him. The back legs of the stool click back against the ground as you slide out of his lap and towards the door without sparing him another glance.

"Thanks! My name wasn't on the bottle either!" You wave at him from over your shoulder and all he can do is watch you walk away.

Zane didn't get speechless, but you sure made him a lot quieter. He's not even fully recovered before a soft giggle from across the counter grabs his attention.

"Wow," Moxxi says with a cocked brow. "So. Cash or credit?"

He hangs his head and sighs. "Just get me another bottle, will ya?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos, I'm really glad people like my stuff! I was nervous to start uploading, but I'm glad I did :-). Thank you!


	7. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tender moment with Zane after a sudden pang of guilt and regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiniest nsfw mention this, literally only one sentence so I'm keeping it rated T okay? Okay, thank you.

Something wretched builds up in your stomach while you sleep. It claws at your throat and makes it hard to breathe, sinking into your chest with a painful ache as your heartbeat becomes erratic. The feeling crawls from your chest down to your fingers, settling in your palms as heavy as a rifle. Diving further down, the sensation pins your legs down, and there's no way to run, no way to ignore the regrets and doubts and fears as the memories roll past your closed eyes. It's too much, you can barely move against the feeling, you can barely breathe with it bearing down on your chest. Your face feels hot, and over the blood rushing in your ears, you hear the unmistakable crack of a gunshot, so close you're sure it must've been aimed at you.

You're up in a flash, gasping for air and coughing as if to choke up the feeling itself. Sweat drips down your neck uncomfortably, but you swipe at it briefly before your hands roam over your surroundings in the dark. Your left hand catches on something quickly, or more accurately, something catches your hand instead.

Zane keeps a tight hold on your wrist when you recoil, squinting tiredly at you when he feels your pulse.

"Gotta say, gettin' back handed ain't the nicest way to wake up," he grumbles.

You're not in the mood to try and shoot back at him with your own snarky response, wordlessly wretching your hand away instead. Clearly confused, and maybe slightly worried if you could see him any better in the dark, he places a hand on your shoulder slower than he'd grabbed your hand before. You needed a distraction, something to take your thoughts away from whatever had flashed before your eyes and ripped its way through your chest, and Zane was right there anyways.

With a deep breath, you roll into his lap and dive your head down for a hungry kiss, but Zane stops you by your shoulders and gives you a look caught between annoyance and concern.

"The hell's gotten into you?"

It almost feels scolding, and you try to swallow down the feeling of anxiety in your chest, but your thoughts are still stuck on regrets and mistakes.

The journey thus far had kept you occupied majority of the time. Between gunfire and subsequent health hypos, there was never much time to dwell on the past during the day, but at night, the thoughts snuck in. They bubbled up in your stomach and made it hard to breathe. Catching in your throat until you choke, waking up short of breath and sweaty.

You remember when things were harder. When things were easier. When you'd done something wrong. When you'd refused to do something right. They piled up almost every night that you didn't get drunk or fucked until you passed out, and even then it wasn't guaranteed they wouldn't creep back up. Living out on the border planets was hard, and if it ever got easier, you wouldn't know.

The way you look down at him tells Zane exactly what's running through your head, and with a sigh, he moves his hands to bring your head down against his chest. You mold into him immediately and bite your tongue to keep your breathing even as you hide your face in his shirt. He knows how you felt almost too well. You don't even need to tell him what's plaguing you. Killing was the hardest thing to try and sleep off, and still only one part of your lives as mercenaries. It was second nature to you both now. Murder was in the job description for pretty much every job this part of the galaxy, but he doesn't get irritated with you.

Instead, he pats your back and kisses the top of your head wordlessly. You're not sure you've ever seen or felt him be so tender. It's even more foreign than the first time he'd ever shown interest in you. You don't dwell on how strange it is for too long though, afraid that you might miss out on this opportunity. Instead, you lift your head and lean forward for another kiss. This time, it's soft and fleeting, and Zane has no idea how to reciprocate it. He isn't sure he even knows _how_ to kiss that sweetly. The action throws him off, but he runs his hands down your back and over your waist mindlessly, gripping your hips softly in comparison to how he usually holds you.

You prove him wrong though; he _does_ know how to kiss that softly, and something is so sickly sweet about it that you almost want to laugh. Two people with years of baggage and no way to deal with it besides sex, drugs, and alcohol; now trading tender kisses in the darkness of space. Zane seems as wrapped up in the gentleness of it all as you are, and his hands almost seem like they don't know what to do for once besides squeeze your hips periodically each time you break away and dive in for another kiss.

After a few minutes of gentle and quiet touches, you lean your head down against his shoulder and sigh. He uses the opportunity to roll you both over onto your sides with your head against his chest. 

"You're alright. I've got ya," Zane whispers tiredly.

The thoughts melt away completely, and you drift off curled up in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this fic in a while now obviously, but I've suddenly been getting so many nice comments on this fic and my other Zane fic that I wanted to put something out for all you nice folk :-)! I'm guessing this has something to do with quarantine. Either way, thank you so much for all your kind words!!! I don't answer every comment, but I promise I read and appreciate all of them 💕!

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated! I hate this motherfucker, but I have a lot backed up for him so hopefully I can keep a series up


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